Firebrand

The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship

Despite it being his favourite class, Martel found it hard to focus on Master Fenrick's lesson. Thoughts swirled in his head as to how he could accomplish his plan. He had never considered he might have to go elsewhere than The Golden Goose, which felt familiar and where he knew that informal gambling took place. He would have to risk going to a proper establishment for games of coin, but he had no doubt that if word came back to the Lyceum, he would get in trouble; unlike a tavern, Martel could not explain away his presence in a gambling den. It had to be far away from the school where he would not accidentally be seen by anyone passing by on the street or such.

The market district felt too close to the Lyceum for that reason. The copper lanes too far, not to mention, he should keep his distance given recent events in that part of town. Martel did not imagine the northern parts of Morcaster had places for gambling suitable for someone like him, posing to be a simple apprentice or clerk. That left the harbour as his best bet.

Feeling guilty for his lack of attention, Martel resumed listening to Master Fenrick's words. "There has been much speculation as to how the position of the stars might affect our magic. For instance, one might think that Malac high in the heavens would strengthen our mageknights. Yet observations have shown this is not always the case. It seems that the position of the other principal stars, perhaps coupled with the phases of the moon or other, minor stars, play a vital role."

Martel's mind swirled back to his astronomy classes earlier this year. He did not miss having to keep up with the terribly complex equations involved in charting the stars. While he found this topic interesting in theory, it seemed too complicated in practice, especially as it apparently barely yielded any benefits for a spellcaster.

"Of course, the most auspicious moment for magic occurs at winter solstice, regardless of the stars and their positions. The prevailing theory is that the absence of the sun allows the moon full influence. In fact, this knowledge affected strategic thinking the first time that the Asterian Empire attempted a large-scale conflict with the Tyrian tribes, launching an attack in winter." Master Fenrick gave a sardonic smile. "The strategy was quickly abandoned when it was determined that the Tyrians suffer and control the cold far better than us."

~

As Martel had his practical lesson with Master Fenrick in the afternoon, he had to wait until evening before he could venture into the city. This did leave him strapped for time, considering he had to walk all the way to the harbour district, gamble, and get home again. Well, he could sacrifice a few hours of sleep; he had become accustomed to that, after all.

Both the market and the harbour were busy districts, but in different ways. At the former, nearly everyone was a local resident buying and bartering. It felt more crowded, and the narrow spaces necessitated everyone to be on foot, but the people seemed generally of the same sort. The harbour had all kinds. Folks from Morcaster mingled with those from elsewhere in the Empire and sailors from across the seas. Some walked, others transported goods in carts or on the backs of donkeys. Fewer stalls and workshops, but a lot more places selling one form of entertainment or the other. Martel did not walk long until he saw a sign with a hand holding four playing cards. One place as good as the next, he entered.

A large, open space extended before his eyes. All sorts of colours gave it a vibrant look, from red chairs to green tablecloths and richly decorated walls. Likewise, the staff wore livery of sorts rather than just plain clothes. The noise rose to the ceiling from people talking, shouting, complaining, and more, games being played and coins exchanged, all the while a bard desperately tried to provide some music in the background.

Martel's heart began to beat faster as much from excitement as anxiety. The mood reminded him of the solstice celebrations held by the nobles with an atmosphere of wealth and amusement. He did not notice that as he crossed the threshold, a symbol on the floor gave a faint light when touched by his boot.

One of the staff, a muscular fellow with a dagger by his side, approached Martel. "Pardon me, good master, but as you have ignited the rune, we must conduct a quick test."

Feeling a little odd being addressed in this manner by a man twice his age, Martel looked down to see the soft glow running along the lines of the symbol. As he looked up, the guard had taken out a small pouch, from which he retrieved a pinch of a strange powder. Much to Martel's perplexion, the man sprinkled the dust into his face.

Wrinkling his nose, Martel almost sneezed as the powder drifted through the air towards him. As it almost reached his skin, the little specks lit up into flashes of light.

"Very sorry, good master, but by the rules of the Gamblers' Guild, none with magical ability may enter the premises. It wouldn't allow for fair games, you understand. Respectfully, I must ask you to leave."

His deception destroyed before it could even begin, Martel could not summon the wherewithal to attempt any protest. He simply turned around and walked back to the street.

~

Deflated, Martel walked home. Another scheme had proved short-lived. Perhaps it was for the best. Deception did not come easy to Martel, especially not with money at stake. And better he were discovered beforehand rather than in the midst of a game with angry players surrounding him.

He could find Maximilian and repay him. Martel disliked being indebted to anyone, even if just a few coins. He trudged all the way up the dormitory tower to the top floors and knocked on the acolyte's door.

Maximilian opened, already dressed for bed. "What is it?"

Martel let the coins dump into his hand. "Just wanted to give this back."

The mageknight looked at the silver with a frown. "You owe me money?"

"Yes, I borrowed this like yesterday."

"Oh, I did not pay attention when you asked. I just heard you mumble about money, so I gave you a few coins. I did not expect repayment." Maximilian shrugged and slammed the coins down on a dresser by the door.

A thought struck Martel. "The other night, in the copper lanes, you had been out gambling."

Maximilian rolled his eyes. "Do not bother. I have heard plenty of lectures on the topic."

"No, no. I just wondered where you went. I know licensed establishments have ways to detect mages, after all."

A glimpse appeared in the eye of the viscount. "They do, but how do you know that? More importantly, why do you wish to know of a place that can't detect mages?" Maximilian smiled. "Is that an opportunity I smell?"